


not quite an echo

by inexorableformation



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Recall, after some angst at the start, i apparently write face touching a lot but thats a selling point, this is very soft again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:33:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23683195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inexorableformation/pseuds/inexorableformation
Summary: Nothing breaks this easily.
Relationships: Ana Amari/Reaper | Gabriel Reyes
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	not quite an echo

The ceiling greets her, a pristine surface marred only by the shadows of the early morning light cast upon it. The sun hasn't gone up quite yet. The curtains sway in the wind. It's warm enough to keep them open during the night, the last vestiges of the spring cold barely holding on.

Ana blinks and the shadows don't go away. She shivers under the covers and no matter how far up to her nose she pulls them it doesn't stop. Eventually, her eye wanders to the right in a sleepy haze. Her heart jumps in her chest. Her palm can't steady it.

A full minute later she dares to reach out, brush her fingertips over the figure's still shoulder. Then again, again and again, careful as though she was handling porcelain. When she hears the hum and it is half static she flinches. Her movements still for just a second. Long enough. He tenses. Reaper rolls over to face her, slowly, blinks at her as tired as she feels. Eyes as dark as the smoke that moves with his features and without them, moves without pause.

"Hate to disappoint."

"I didn't say anything," Ana replies. "That's not very fair, is it?"

"It's not fair to mourn me when I'm still here, either."

He closes his eyes as she rests her hand on the side of his face, rubbing her thumb over his cheekbone. The smoke rises but it's a thin line, barely visible.

"Sorry," Reaper says, quiet. "I know it's not- I'm not-"

"I'm sorry, too."

"Did you forget? Are you okay?"

"I had a dream. Of a time before I was shot."

"Ah. That would do it. But are you-"

"I'm alright."

They stay in silence. Reaper presses a kiss to her hand but doesn't see her smile. When he looks at her again only one of his eyes is functional. The other a maelstrom, a criss-cross of scars until it knits back together.

"It's strange," he says, "to compete with yourself."

"You don't have to compete with anyone."

Reaper laughs, unhappy.

"You miss me," he says. "Well. You miss who I was."

Ana scoots closer to him under her blanket until she reaches his. Lifts it, switches over. She shakes her head when he laughs.

"Do I need to remind you why we don't share?"

"No," Reaper chuckles. "I know I steal blankets."

He rests his head against her shoulder when she wraps her arms around him, runs her fingers through the short hair on the back of his head. She lets him hide his face for a moment, feels his palm run over her spine.

"Gabriel," she says. "Look at me."

He does.

"What's up?"

Ana keeps petting his hair, slow, methodical.

"I don't miss who you were more than I want who you are."

Reaper goes still, goes quiet. The only part of his face that moves is the smoke, wisps of it dancing around the corner of his mouth.

"I love you," he says. "You know that, right?"

Ana smiles for him to see.

"I do."

"It's good to check now and again."

"It's not something I'm going to forget so easily."

"Do you want to?"

"Now you're being dramatic for no reason," she says and shakes her head. "That's very Gabriel Reyes of you."

His laugh is genuine this time, static and guttural and happy. Ana's heart warms. Slowly. She smiles and smiles until it keeps the cold away.

"I'd like to kiss you," he says. "What's your take on that?"

"You make a compelling argument."

"Absolutely. That doesn't answer the question, though."

"Doesn't it?"

"And you call me difficult."

"You are," Ana says and runs her fingers through the shaved hair on the side of his head. "But I wouldn't have you any other way."

Reaper melts under her touch as she kisses him. Leans into it. Hesitant, still, restrained.

"It hurts to see you be so careful," she decides to admit. "Nothing is going to break this easily. Not me, not this, not anything. You are allowed to reach out."

He hums. Tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"I've made enough mistakes."

"You're not the only one. I left you before you left me."

"That's not-"

"Isn't it? I wasn't there when you died, Gabriel."

"You're here now."

"Yes," she says and gives him a pointed look. " _You_ are also here now."

Reaper meets her halfway when she leans in to kiss him again under the cover of the early morning. Ana touches his shoulders, his neck, the side of his head. Solid underneath her fingertips. He shivers, reacts to it, gives as much as he takes.

"I like you here," she tells him between kisses. "The way you are."


End file.
